“The worse news is that I have no doubt that Iraq now has substantial supplies of two far more lethal gases, nerve agents of German invention called Sarin and Tabun. If these were used in the Iran-Iraq war, and I think they were, there would have been no question of treating the victims in British hospitals. They would be dead.”
“How bad are these—er ... agents, Dr. Reinhart?” asked Sir Paul Spruce.
“Sir Paul, do you have a wife?”
The urbane mandarin was startled.
“Well, yes, as a matter of fact I do.”
“Does Lady Spruce ever use perfume from a spray atomizer?”
“Yes, I do believe I have seen her do that.”
“Have you ever noticed how fine the spray from an atomizer is? How small the droplets?”
“Yes, indeed, and bearing in mind the price of perfume, I’m very glad of it.”
It was a good joke. Anyway, Sir Paul liked it.
“Two of those droplets of Sarin or Tabun on your skin, and you’re dead,” said the chemist from Porton Down.
No one smiled.
“The Iraqi search for nerve gases goes back to 1976. In that year they approached the British company ICI, explaining they wanted to build a pesticide plant to produce four bug-killers—but the materials they asked for caused ICI to turn them down flat. The specifications the Iraqis showed were for corrosion-resistant reactor vessels, pipes, and pumps that convinced ICI that the real end-goal was not chemical pesticides but nerve gas. The deal was refused.”
“Thank God for that,” said Sir Paul, and made a note.
“But not everyone refused them,” said the former Viennese refugee. “Always the excuse was that Iraq needed to produce herbicides and pesticides, which of course need poisons.”
“They could not have really wanted to produce these agricultural products?” asked Paxman.
“No chance,” said Reinhart. “To a professional chemist, the key lies in the quantities and the types. In 1981 they got a German firm to build them a laboratory with a very special and unusual layout. It was to produce phosphorus pentachloride, the starter chemical for organic phosphorus, which is one of the ingredients of nerve gas. No normal university research laboratory would need to handle such hideously toxic substances. The chemical engineers involved must have known that.
“Further export licenses show orders for thiodiglycol. Mustard gas is made from it when mixed with hydrochloric acid. Thiodiglycol, in small quantities, may be used also for making the ink for ball-point pens.”
“How much did they buy?” asked Sinclair.
“Five hundred tons.”
“That’s a lot of ball-points,” muttered Paxman.
“That was in early 1983,” said Reinhart. “In the summer their big Samarra poison gas plant went into operation, producing yperite, which is mustard gas. They began using it on the Iranians in December.
“During the first attacks by the Iranian human waves, the Iraqis used a mixture of
yellow rain, yperite, and Tabun. By 1985, they had improved the mixture to one of hydrogen cyanide, mustard gas, Tabun, and Sarin, achieving a sixty percent mortality rate among the Iranian infantry.”
“Could we just look at the nerve gases, Doctor?” asked Sinclair. “That would seem to be the really deadly stuff.”
“It is,” said Dr. Reinhart. “From 1984, the chemicals for which they were shopping were phosphorus oxychloride, which is an important precursor chemical for Tabun, and two Sarin precursors, trimethyl phosphite and potassium fluoride. Of the first of those three, they tried to order 150 tons from a Dutch company. That’s enough pesticide to kill every tree, shrub, and blade of grass in the Middle East. The Dutch turned them down, as ICI had, but they still bought two uncontrolled chemicals at that time: dimethylamine for making Tabun, and isopropanol for Sarin.”
“If they were uncontrolled in Europe, why could they not be used for pesticides?” asked Sir Paul.
“Because of the quantities,” Dr. Reinhart replied, “and the chemical manufacturing and handling equipment, and the factory layouts. To a skilled chemist or chemical engineer, none of these purchases could be other than for poison gas.”
“Do you know who the main supplier over the years has been, doctor?” asked Sir Paul.
“Oh, yes. There was some input of a scientific nature from the Soviet Union and East Germany in the early days, and some exports from about eight countries, in most cases of small quantities of uncontrolled chemicals. But eighty percent of the plants, layouts, machinery, special handling equipment, chemicals, technology, and know-how came from West Germany.”